I've always been slightly obsessed
with the human mind.
It just fascinates me.

How is it that one second
a person can be a stranger.
And yet, one second later,
they become your whole life.

I'm not sure if it's the way you first looked at me,
like for once in my life
I was being looked at and not through.
Or maybe it's how you made me feel like finally,
I wasn't so alone.

It's been 625 days
since that first look.
And now I'm right back where I started.

Transparent.

Someone doesn't have to die
For you to lose them.

Passion,
Is not unique,
Is not random,
Or undefined,

It is just,
You feeling happy.

If looks could **** then I would be a murderer.
My eyes used to be filled with hate.
Staring down those who have wronged me.
So many dead in my wake.

But if looks can **** then maybe they could also heal.
Because the way she looked at me reminded me of memory.
That once had to be told to me because I couldn't remember.

there's a fire raging
but it provides no warmth
to dead pragmatic bodies
in a decrepit house
of innumerable obligations
all contradicting each other
any semblance of structure
collapses, smolders burying
the never alive
is the day enough reason to exist?

You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.